Fishing at Dusk
I cast out my line, not caring if I catch anything or not
The sun is setting and the river sings its sweet song
Fish ducks fly low over the water, saluting the dusk
This is my place, the place I know I belong...
A steelhead jumps at the head of the riffle
Teasing me as he rises to grab the fly
I acknowledge his place in life's scheme
To him life's worries surely do not apply...
A tug on my line brings me back again
I set the hook and my heart skips a beat
He jumps one or twice and spits the fly
No matter, this lovely day is complete..